


Weep, Little Lion Man

by vivray (nanashiii)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: :), Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - War, Dead Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Dead Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Flashbacks, Friends to Enemies, Gen, Imprisonment, King GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), King Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Prince Toby Smith | Tubbo, Prince TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Prince Wilbur Soot, Ranboo & TommyInnit Friendship (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo and Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), all relationships are meant to be platonic, no beta we die like phil n techno in this fic, we be using he/they for eret
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-22
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-26 18:27:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30110166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanashiii/pseuds/vivray
Summary: He'd offered to give him the position. "Do you want to be king, Wilbur?"But Wilbur had shaken his head and continued to do everything a king should, without actually being one. Techno understood, so he didn't push the matter.It was unnerving to see Tommy learn to silently cry, to see Tubbo begin to break under the stress of playing mediator, to see Wilbur grow pale and thin and desperate as he overworked and neglected himself. Hundreds of soldiers, and soon thousands, had died to the bloodbath. War started to feel pointless, and Techno was drowning in it. They all were.-aka: they lose everything. royalty au, wilbur-centric
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot, Eret & Wilbur Soot, Jack Manifold & Niki | Nihachu, Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Weep, Little Lion Man

_**Present:** _

Their world went to hell when Techno was killed.

It had already begun its gentle decline years ago, when death had claimed Phil in its greedy clutches, leaving the oldest of his four sons to step up to the throne. Techno had never been fond of governments, and he was far from to run one, but he'd have given his world up for Phil.

And so he did. With Wilbur and Tubbo there to assist with many of the communicative matters- negotiations, speeches, things along those lines- the burden on his shoulders wasn't as painful to carry. Tommy was surprisingly helpful with the planning and strategizing that Techno would pore over for hours on end, and there were times when the blonde had a sudden stroke of charisma and would help the other two as well. Among their little team of four, things were as fine as they were going to get. Tommy and Tubbo were kids, so it was mainly just him and Wilbur, but it would be a lie to say they didn't do their part as well as they could.

"You wouldn't get anywhere without me," Tommy had declared, and then promptly dropped a stack of important paperwork. "Ah, damn."

Techno had simply snorted and ruffled his hair, giving a nonchalant, "Sure, kid."

He expected Dream to declare war on their kingdom of L'manberg, and so it was far from a surprise when he did.

Dream was as intriguing as he was dangerous. George may have been the king of their little SMP Empire, but when you got to know Dream, it was clear to see the former had never been more than a mere figurehead. A pretty face on the throne, a pretty puppet dangling from bright green strings. 

Techno and Dream had been something akin to comrades once upon a time- perhaps business partners was a more correct term, but things that been mutually amiable. It had only been Wilbur who was truly friends with the man, a secret he'd tried so carefully to keep from Techno. Wilbur was subtle, footsteps and words easily as light as he wanted to make them, but Techno was persistent enough to combat that.

Nowadays, Wilbur's memories of Dream are tinged with a bitter longing of moon-lit skies, wind rushing past clifftops, and a dance he hadn't known was with a devil.

_A song that was only his, only theirs, forever theirs-_

War was never pretty, but Techno was born for it. The voices that clamored in his head agreed. He was a fighter, a warrior forged in bloodlust, much more than he was a leader. The voices demanded blood, and war gave him a chance to indulge in their needy desires. Though the official title remained as Techno's, Wilbur did much more leading as time stretched on. 

He'd offered to give him the position. "Do you want to be king, Wilbur?"

But Wilbur had shaken his head and continued to do everything a king should, without actually being one. Techno understood, so he didn't push the matter.

It was unnerving to see Tommy learn to silently cry, to see Tubbo begin to break under the stress of playing mediator, to see Wilbur grow pale and thin and desperate as he overworked and neglected himself. Hundreds of soldiers, and soon thousands, had died to the bloodbath. War started to feel pointless, and Techno was drowning in it. They all were.

Sometimes, he thinks about how Tommy and Tubbo were fourteen when the war started, and Wilbur was eighteen. He himself was nineteen. None of the others were much more than kids, not even Wilbur, who insisted that because he was of legal age he was a mature adult. Techno felt so much older than his age, and so he counted himself as an adult no matter how many times Wilbur argued that he was a year older than him. 

"You're nineteen, Tech! Nineteen is too young for all the shit you're putting yourself through. I don't care if you're older than me or not, that doesn't change that you're suffering, too." He'd ignored Wilbur. What else could he have done?

He reminded himself that he had to keep going for Phil. Phil wouldn't want him to give up, not when they were so far in. So far under. 

It was horrible and difficult in every way imaginable, but for a while, L'manberg was winning.

Their army was larger and better trained, thanks to Phil's extensive fighting knowledge that he'd implemented into their training back when he'd still been alive. The royal family had the gift of supernatural abilities flowing through their veins, and those abilities were utilized by the four of them in every way possible to increase their chances of victory.

Wilbur had the voice of a siren, a compelling lilt filling it when he sang and pulled his victims into a trance. Tommy was simply a hybrid and not magically gifted. He was painfully similar to Phil, with bright white wings that granted him flight. Phil's wings had been accompanied by gentle guiding voices that lived within his head; A more aggressive version of those had been passed onto Techno, while Tommy had gotten the hybrid genes. Techno had no idea how those genes worked out and they made no sense for him. Was Tommy adopted? Who knows. He really didn't care, because there was never a time when it mattered, so he let it slip away from his mind.

Techno often joked that Wilbur and Tommy combined were like birds. A songbird or an eagle, maybe. It always made Wilbur laugh, and Tommy grumble on about how he preferred to be referred to as an angel, thank you very much. 

"Eagles are shit!" He had loved to say. Tommy had always been fond of his swears.

(But Tommy's wings never held the angelic, captivating glow that Phil's had, so eagle it was.)

Tubbo would then point out that Tommy acted much more like a demon, and promptly received an annoyed glare full of mock disbelief in his brother's betrayal. Bickering always ensued.

Tubbo could manipulate light and bend it to his will. It was confusing to the other three, but Tubbo was bright beyond his years and always managed to put it to good use. Techno's was simple. He had the voices, yes, but additionally, his perception, agility, and strength were enhanced. It meant that fighting had always come naturally to him; He was strong, and skilled, and swore to his brothers that he could never die.

 _Technoblade never dies,_ he would preach in the most reassuring way that he could, likely pleasing Wilbur with his excessive theatrics. _Blood for the Blood God._ Tubbo would cheer, Tommy would ramble on about how he was so cool, and Wilbur would either make fun of him or join in with theatrics of his own.

And for a while, Techno never did. He outsmarted fate time and time again, leaping headfirst into hell a thousand times over and emerging from it mostly unscathed. It was thanks to his fighting, Wilbur's leadership, Tubbo's intelligence, and Tommy's talent of unification that L'manberg ever even stood a chance at all.

"Dad would be proud, you know?" He remembered Wilbur's smile. His brother hadn't smiled in forever, and so it was nice, though it made his heart ache in a way that was more yearning than painful. "I think we can do this."

"...Of course. I agree."

It took one power to topple the tower and ruin it all. It took one person to steal away every hit of that chance and crush it between clenched fists.

It took one person to cause the death of Technoblade and the subsequent death of L'manberg.

Maybe it was more than just one person. Were they to blame? Maybe Tubbo was too smart for his own good, and Wilbur too willing to take risks that anyone else would see as fatal. Maybe Tommy was too trusting, and trust combined with the dangerous skill of persuasion that he and Techno shared couldn't ever be a good thing. Maybe they shouldn't have trusted Jack and Niki as well, because who knows if they'd helped their enemy?

Techno couldn't find it in him to blame any of them, just like he couldn't bring himself to admit his own mistake of blind naivete. It was both all of their faults and none of them; all or nothing, take it or leave it.

The head of the guard, Eret, had been in their lives as long as Techno could remember. They'd maintained a stoic, professional presence until the very end, where their smile had been sickening and words cruelly poetic in a way Wilbur might have once admired.

_It was never meant to be._

Tommy found them interesting. Tubbo admired them. Wilbur trusted them. Techno hadn't ever cared, and maybe he should have.

Tubbo wanted the war to be over as soon as possible. They all agreed with this, but he was especially adamant. So he'd proposed mass destruction of their enemy's territory in the form of highly powerful nuclear weapons. Through a process that had taken most of his time, with the help of a general named Jack and Wilbur's dear friend Niki, he'd managed to put these nuclear weapons together and set them up in a location where destruction would be optimal when they were launched.

When he'd told them of this, it was quite unexpected ("Hey, guys, so uh... Are any of you interested in blowing up the SMP Empire with nukes?" And it had gone on from there). Tommy had spluttered, Wilbur had stared, and Techno had been amused until he realized his brother wasn't joking. He'd asked him to repeat himself.

And so Tubbo had. It was no less bewildering the second time.

The worst part? He once called them "my beloved nukes", a painful reminder that he really was still such a child (he was fifteen at that point, to be sixteen in a few weeks). An extraordinary, unusual, genius child, but a child nonetheless. The fact that he'd even managed to set up an entire nuclear system with minimal help was shock-worthy.

It was an incredible feat, and so they'd gone through with it.

"You're crazy, Tubs." Wilbur had sighed, voice full of a fond amusement.

Wilbur had been far too enthusiastic about the nukes, in Techno's opinion. It made sense for Tubbo to be eager to put them to use, being their meticulous creator that had worked on them day and night for weeks. It even made sense for Tommy to hype them up, with his loud nature and gullible love of destruction. But Wilbur? Sensible, charismatic, calculating Wilbur, falling in love with the idea of a nuclear explosion?

Something about that wasn't right, but Techno set it aside since most things these days were far from right. Another thing he shouldn't have simply discarded. Another thing he never got the chance to pay attention to.

_"Is this all for nothing, Techno?"_

They requested the assistance of Jack, Niki, and Eret. The former two had helped Tubbo develop the nuclear system, and therefore already knew all about it. They had agreed immediately, quickly proving to be trustworthy and soothing any of Techno's remaining doubts. Tubbo obviously trusted them already, and Tommy always caved in to agree with Tubbo's judgement fairly quickly. Wilbur had always been close with Niki, and it didn't take him long to warm up to Jack.

They asked for Eret's help when they realized another person might be necessary, especially with the matter of keeping all of their citizens safe. Eret was the perfect pick for the job, being head of the guard. They agreed to help just as quickly as the other two had. Eret had been reliable in the past, and since Phil had trusted him, Techno was inclined to.

It was important for the group to keep the information confidential, and Techno made sure multiple times that he engrained that into all of their heads. They listened; Even Tommy with his occasional lack of common sense, and the three that were little more than strangers to him. 

Things had been going perfectly. If Eret's guise had been real, they would've won. Dream would've finally lost, and victory would be theirs. But no, nothing is ever kind to those like them, is it?

Eret betrayed them.

They started by disabling the nukes, coaxing the information on how to do so out of Tubbo in a way that still left the teenager oblivious. With the influence they had over the L'manbergian army, it was no difficult task for him to make it so that they were unprepared for Dream and his army to lead a surprise ambush onto the castle and capital grounds.

"Hello. It's such a pleasure to see each other, don't you think?" God, did Techno hate Dream's sickening smile.

Eret had stood at Dream's side with a smile, saying nothing more than that none of this had ever been meant to be before the war raged on.

Techno and Wilbur had fought with the strength of twice their lives, their brothers', and maybe even Phil's. It had been the two of them against Dream, George, and Sapnap, head of the SMP army, as Eret slipped away to join the armies outside. Jack was outside among the army, leading them on the front lines. Niki had been instructed to take Tommy and Tubbo and run, and so she had. Children shouldn't fight adults' battles, and as Niki was only seventeen, Techno counted her as a child.

Techno was and always had been a fighter, a warrior, a creature of bloodlust and raging war. He was a beautiful mix of brute force and elegance in battle, dancing a ruthless dance with death. Wilbur was less of one, a dove forged in scripted poetry and faintly flickering candles, but he was skilled enough to hold his own against their opponents. 

They discovered quickly that Wilbur's siren voice didn't work on the three of them, but Techno was impressed at how quickly his brother disregarded it and fought with Phil's old sword as his only asset. 

They should've won. They were _so close_ to winning.

There had been a scream that ricocheted through the castle walls, and it sounded so much like Tommy. 

Maybe it was.

That split second of distraction had cost them everything.

Techno knew that he'd failed not only Wilbur and L'manberg, but Phil, when Dream stabbed him through the chest. He didn't die at first- no, he didn't die until Dream did it again, and again, and again, leaving all three of the others to witness it with either horror or a sick fascination.

Wilbur knew that he had failed Techno, and no amount of screaming or tears would ever fix that. He'd failed Tommy, and Tubbo, and Niki, and God, had he failed himself. 

(Later, when it really sunk in and he cried, it was the first time he'd _really_ cried in years.)

It wasn't hard for Sapnap to capture and restrain him, despite how much the prince struggled with grief-filled eyes and a newfound surge of spite. He even nearly passed out on them, keeping himself awake and on his feet with the strength of pure, foolish stubbornness. When Wilbur spat at them, and taunted them, asking why they wouldn't just kill him as well, Dream simply told him with a voice melting in poisonous honey that he had other plans for him.

"We can't kill you yet. What fun would that be?"

It sent chills down his spine, but he'd bared his teeth and continued to insult them, channeling his inner Tommy as he cursed on of how they'd done a half-assed job and were the shittiest motherfuckers he'd ever met.

When they informed him that their ominous plans involved Tommy and Tubbo, too, George resorted to knocking him out when he grew too tired of dealing with how intensely he struggled to free himself. The revelation had seemed to ignite a new fire of adrenaline in him.

The darkness was more condescending than it was pleasant.

He woke up in a dark, lifeless room, chained to the wall, confused and desperate and so very bitter. Tubbo was there with him, but Tommy wasn't. The former eventually filled him in on what had happened after he'd been knocked unconscious.

Tommy, Niki, and Tubbo had been confronted by Eret and a man that they later learned was named Quackity. Both proved to be skilled fighters, but Niki, Tommy, and Tubbo were more than competent when it came to battle. Swords brandished (it was hard to remember a time they hadn't kept weapons with them at all time), they'd charged right in.

"Niki moved first!" Tubbo had told him. "It was real badass, honestly."

Niki and Tubbo were good. Tommy was phenomenal. Eret, however, wasn't head guard for nothing, and Quackity's skill level was close to theirs. Before he knew it, Tommy had a knife in his shoulder a gash deep into his thigh. Tubbo described his scream as heart-wrenching. Wilbur agreed; He and Techno had heard it, after all. Eret showed no emotional reaction, expression cold as ever as they threatened to finish him off for good if Niki and Tubbo didn't surrender.

Tubbo described the next part as something of a blur. "It all was so fast," he sighed. They'd all been restrained, and enough of a healing serum used on Tommy's injuries to keep him from bleeding out. Clearly their intention hadn't been to kill them, and simply to keep them captive.

Being the genius that he was, Tubbo was prepared. With a system he refused to explain to Wilbur in the case that it was overheard, he'd alerted his favorite servant, Ranboo, that they were in danger.

"Ranboo's super cool," he informed him. "Cool and strong, so naturally he came to save us!"

But Ranboo couldn't do much. He had little access to any weapons or supplies that could be greatly helpful, being a servant. He'd done all that he could, and with that, he'd only managed to help one of them and run.

Tubbo had told him to help Tommy. With tears in his eyes that left burns on his skin, he'd complied. Stupid, selfless Tubbo. 

Niki had been taken captive. So had Tubbo. He had no idea where the girl was, but God, was he glad to be with Wilbur.

"Are there any possible ways for us to get out of here?" He assumed that Tubbo had checked. Tubbo had, but he hadn't found anything.

And so, like caged birds, they awaited their fate.

* * *

_**Past:** _

More often than not, wanderers tend to find each other.

So when one boy, barely twelve, met another, almost fourteen, they immediately knew that they'd gone farther from home than they were supposed to.

A river danced between them, rushing and yet leisure, calm and yet chaotic. Brown eyes fell upon the masked figure and widened, but he never moved from his spot at the side of the bank. He just stared, eyes widening more as the masked boy cocked his head to one side.

Maybe curiosity will be the death of Wilbur, as Techno always liked to say, but he's never met someone who's both so mysteriously imposing and seemingly close to his age. So he smiled, hesitance clear, and lifted a hand up out of his navy blue trench coat pocket in a wave.

"Hi."

Maybe he should've listened to his father, who always warned him to be cautious around the strangers that he came across.

Maybe waving at that boy would be the action he one day recognized as his worst mistake, but his smile stretched wider when he waved back.

The masked boy didn't speak, but that was alright. Wilbur had been told by many people, including Techno and Dad, that he had a talent for rambling on and on to himself. He took it as a compliment. "I'm Prince Wilbur Watson, but my last name's stupid, so I go by Wilbur Soot! Who're you?"

This time, short and monotone as it was, he got a verbal response. "Dream."

"Dream's a strange name."

He was delighted to receive a longer response that even held a hint of teasing. "Isn't your brother's name Technoblade?" Dream tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, studying Wilbur from behind that odd smiling mask.

Dream wasn't sure what to make of Wilbur. He knew his name- as did everyone in the area; King Philza Watson was well-known, and his sons were by association- but he was undoubtedly strange, even for a prince.

His voice was sweet and compelling, full of childlike enthusiasm and something deeper that he couldn't place. His eyes were a contrast to themselves, containing a spark of naivete and the look of someone wise and tired beyond their years. His coat was too large and came down to his knees. Nothing quite indicated his status of royalty besides the way he held himself and the familiarity of his face.

Wilbur Soot, Dream decided, was an enigma. A mystery that he wanted to figure out, and he'd be damned if he didn't try. And he was absolutely right in thinking that Wilbur was regarding him in the exact same way.

Within a week, Dream was left with both so many more questions and so many more answers. First of all, Wilbur was very, very lonely, and though Dream wasn't entirely sure why as of yet, he suspected he'd know soon. It was easy to coax him into oversharing. He was calculating and smart, managing to trick Dream into answer a few personal questions of his own. His words flowed easily, akin to a song, and wrapped around him in golden ribbons. He was a dreamer and endlessly idealistic. It would be sad to see the day his dreams would inevitably be crushed in front of him. 

The two of them met together by their river as often as possible. Dream named the river and Wilbur claimed a nearby tree; They were the Taken River and the L'mantree, respectively. Both of them bantered endlessly on the others lack of naming skills, and they never agreed to disagree.

They didn't have to. They understood.

They two of them shared many traits, one of which was that mutual longing to be a part of something greater than themselves. Wilbur, born to a kingdom that he'd throw away in a heartbeat for an option tempting enough, and Dream, born to little more than a curse and nothing, were kindred spirits.

"Together," Dream had said one day, coy smile lighting up his voice and hand outstretched to Wilbur. "We could be unstoppable."

Wilbur's resulting grin was proud of confident as he took Dream's hand. "Well, then, what're we waiting for?"

Years later, both of them would wonder how everything they once had went to hell. One would brush it off; The other would drown in it. 

But for now?

It was perfect, and they let themselves believe that it always would be.

"C'mon, Wilbur, I know you can climb this tree faster."

"Hey, shut up! I'm trying."


End file.
